The police met the plane They let you finish your meal I know you’d like to believe it, baby But you’re more kid than criminal Just a boy who could not Get through a domestic flight Without lighting up in the restroom Got caught, cloud of smoke, thumb still on the light You looked so proud Couldn’t wait to call a friend We had to fly back home Never got the money back for that weekend Right there on the Sydney tarmac I threw my luggage down I said, « I’m gonna leave you I’m not a good woman when you’re around » That’s when the sound came in I could finally see I felt the changing of the seasons All of my senses rushing back to me Go your own way Watch me turn my own head Eyes on the driver, hands in my lap Heading to the city to get my body back

I remembered early days When you took my camera Turned to me, 23 Naked on your bed, looking straight at you Do you still have that photograph? Would you use it to hurt me? Well, I guess it’s just my life And it’s just my body